The Human Condition
by Ollopa
Summary: Shepard has survived the invasion of Sovereign and must deal with the ramifications. Many things have changed since that day. Nothing has stayed the same.
1. 1

Many things had changed since that day. Nothing had stayed the same.

Captain John Alan Shepard stood behind Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams while she observed the proper folding and handling of a crisp American flag. Only the muffled weeping of a mother in mourning could be heard - the other hundred and twenty-six people in attendance were silent and respectful. The serviceman at the foot of the casket finished the final tuck and passed the tri-cornered flag to the man at his left, which eventually made it to Chief William's hands. She performed a left-face and presented it to Captain Shepard, who took it between his hands and tightly pressed it against his chest. Chief William's gave a solemn salute.

Captain Shepard marched down a marked path toward the family members, his head and eyes locked forward and the flag held tight. He stopped in front of the mother of Corporal Richard Jenkins, performed a left-face, and bent at the waist. Presenting the flag to her, he leaned in close and quietly recited a mantra that he'd obsessed over for several weeks.

"Ma'am, on behalf of the President of the United States, the Commandant of the Marine Corps, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's service to Country and Corps."

Captain Shepard righted himself, saluted, and returned the way he came, stopping at the head of the casket. Chief William's and her burial detail had already departed and returned to formation elsewhere.

Another group of servicemen some distance away grasped old-fashioned M16A2 rifles in their hands and held them at present arms. Taps was played by a lone bugler. When the song was finished, the detail hoisted up their rifles, took aim over Corporal Jenkin's final resting place, and fired. Fired. Fired. His father had now lost his stiff composure and began to cry as well.

After the service, only Captain Shepard stayed behind; the detail returned to their vehicle to await his return. He offered his family encouraging words of Corporal Jenkin's heroism and fulfillment of his duties. He shook the fathers hand and was hugged by the mother. Captain Shepard thanked the family again, apologized for their loss, and departed, leaving them to grieve and watch as their son was lowered into his grave.

Shepard sighed and began to carry his wary body back to the vehicle so he could depart and hopefully get a good nights rest. He had gotten barely any sleep at all since the climatic battle with Sovereign nearly a month ago; he simply hadn't the time. When the whole of the galaxy wants the attention of their savior, the brass had made it crystal clear that it was his duty to oblige them. If exhaustive paperwork, interviews, and a promotion ceremony weren't enough, this had been the second funeral he had attended in the last week. The first had been to lay to rest a man John Shepard had come to rely on as not just an outstanding officer, but as a good friend.

Kaiden Alenko, posthumously awarded the rank of Staff Lieutenant, had been honored in a private ceremony, seeing as how he had no family to speak of. Only the crew of the _Normandy_ and friends from other deployments attended. One of them was a woman of startling beauty and grace who introduced herself as Rahna Güney. Shepard knew her from his periodic talks with Kaiden, and none of what the Lieutenant had told him about her had been exaggerated. The two had not kept in touch since BAaT but extranet leaks made the casualty reports of Virmire and the Citadel public, and Rahna had noticed Kaiden's name among the fallen. No one was sure how she found out about the ceremony but no one begrudged her attendance.

Shepard slid his keycard through the reader of his hotel room door and opened it with the back of his hand. He stumbled in and stared blankly at the four walls of his accommodations, curling his lip in a disapproving scowl. "For all the fame," he said out loud, "you'd think they could put me up in a four-star suite." He removed the jacket of his dress blue uniform and hung it neatly in his closet. The rest of his uniform, however, was thrown carelessly at the foot of his bed; His necktie was thrown like a bola and wrapped around the base of a lamp. Now free of his restraints, Shepard poured himself a glass of cognac and sat on the floor. The carpet was more comfortable than the bed or the desk chair, he discovered.

Shepard shut his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, periodically taking a sip of his drink. He reveled in the silence and the chance to be alone with his thoughts. He had a lot to think about, too. The most immediate concern was a meeting he had to attend on post at 1800, which was sure to fatten his schedule further.

The door trembled under heavy knocks and Shepard's eyes snapped open. Genuinely startled by the tenacity of his guest, Shepard glanced around the room for a weapon before even standing up. A moment passed before he realized that it was doubtful someone would attack him here (he had rented the room under an assumed name). He had become more prone to paranoia since his return and made a mental note to address the issue at some point. He approached and unlocked the door, opening it only when he was sure his look of disapproval of being bothered was obvious enough. His features softened when he realized who it was.

"Oh, hello Chief."

Ashley William's crooked her eyebrow at the sight. Her commanding officer, a paragon of military discipline and good conduct, was wearing a wife-beater t-shirt and plaid boxer shorts, and drinking. It was only 1400 and he was drinking.

Shepard was similarly surprised by the appearance of his top non-com. He'd only seen her hair down once before and though he wouldn't admit it to her, he believed she looked better with it up. Still, it was endearing that she'd managed to relax and enjoy the time off she'd so rightly earned. "Hey Commander. How's the breeze?"

"Refreshing," Shepard retorted, having learned to keep his wit sharp while in Ashley's presence. "What can I do for you, Chief?"

Ashley shrugged and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a teasing kiss on the corner of his lips. "Unless the cameras are following us, John, you can start by _not_ calling me by my rank."

Shepard smiled and dragged her into his room, accompanied by girlish giggles and the sound of the door being kicked shut. It had been awhile since the couple had spent any personal time together, despite how often it was promised. The next two hours made up for a month of veritable neglect. When it was time for Shepard to leave and attend the briefing, he nearly had to restrain Ashley to keep her from yanking him back. Each time the door was opened, the room was progressively more sullied then before. The third time Shepard did manage to make it out, but only because Ashley wasn't willing to chase him naked down the hall.

The briefing was more casual than usual. This was because Admiral Mikhailovich was not present; he had other obligations to attend to. The Admiral's cynicism and thinly-veiled insults had a way of souring the mood. Tomorrow Shepard had a physical scheduled for 0900, though he'd been aware of it for some time. His closest friends and confidants pressured him into getting a full medical screening after the battle with Saren's automated remains, as Ashley and Garrus had. He didn't think it was necessary but it was now being treated as an order rather than a request. He couldn't refuse it anymore.

At 1230 he was to pack up his belongings and prepare for the three-day journey to Gagarin Station, commonly known as Jump Zero. There he would meet with a group of krogan diplomats to arrange for the continued efforts in discovering a cure for their genetic sterilization. Chairman Anderson would also be in attendance. This time it was a joint effort between the Systems Alliance and the Salarian Union, whom had finally been convinced to lend aid by the now human-attended Council. This was at the behest of Wrex, whom Shepard had promised that his patience and understanding at Virmire would be rewarded. Shepard had to honor that promise, even though he hadn't heard from or seen Wrex since Sovereign's destruction.

Somehow, Shepard planned on fitting in a return to the Citadel to lend his help with the reconstruction. Since the Citadel's true purpose as a mass relay had been revealed, the station had been almost totally abandoned; only a few construction workers and security details remained. The Council had been relocated to the _Destiny Ascension_, which had also been damaged by Sovereign's invasion fleet. However, it was in considerably better shape than the Citadel and was being guarded by a huge number of warships provided by all four Council races. The _Destiny Ascension_ currently held orbit over Thessia, in case immediate reinforcements from the nearby asari were needed.

For the first time since the asari discovered the Citadel over 3,000 years ago, it was being explored in detail. Whenever the crew met an obstacle they could not cross, they were given authorization to use demolitions. Reports indicated that they had discovered large numbers of inactive Keepers and the place where they were being "born," but they hadn't yet found the element zero core that powered the gigantic mass relay. Until they did, no one would be allowed to live on the station. It was simply to much of a risk with the ever-present threat of the Reapers now gripping the galaxy.

That night, Shepard stayed awake for hours. He was tired, both from his daily activities and the insatiable hellcat sleeping on his right, but couldn't manage to keep his eyes shut. He'd publicly promised to deal with the Reapers no matter what the personal cost and had been deemed as a hero for it. But could he live up to that responsibility? What if the Reapers returned in full-force? Just one had decimated much of the Citadel fleet and a large portion of the Alliance fleet. How could they hope to stand against a second Reaper? Or a dozen? Or a hundred? Shepard knew it would be a hopeless battle and so did anyone who had attended and survived the invasion, but they couldn't tell the galaxy that. Sovereign had already caused wide-spread panic throughout hundreds of worlds but they had mostly been placated through well-orchestrated lies. Shepard didn't think he could effectively deceive quadrillions of people a second time.

The next morning, Shepard was up bright and early - he had to be, or else he'd have to drug Ashley to escape. He was in Dr. Chakwas's office an hour prior and insisted the whole thing be finished as soon as possible. Dr. Chakwas came all the way from her home in Surrey to administer the physical herself because Shepard didn't trust any other doctor. In fact, he noticeably cringed whenever one walked by. The procedure lasted no more than fifteen minutes, including the needed tests and blood work. She mocked her former CO with a lollypop and asked him to wait outside. The results of his tests would be ready in less than an hour.

The door to the medical ward swung open roughly fifty minutes later and Dr. Chakwas stepped out, stepped around Shepard's legs, and took a seat beside him. She looked distressed and nervous, which unnerved him more than anything. He'd seen her extract shrapnel from a sucking chest wound without so much as a batted eyelash. To see her unnerved now forced him to look away.

"Doctor, just spit it out. The silent treatment doesn't suit you."

Dr. Chakwas sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She nodded once and set the papers in her hands on the cushion next to her. "You have a malignant brain tumor, John. If we don't schedule you for immediate surgery, you'll be dead in a month."


	2. 2

The galaxy had become a very different place since the destruction of Sovereign and public outing as to the true nature of the Citadel. John Alan Shepard's decision to save the three Council representatives at the cost of several hundred human lives earned him and his race a pardon for stereotypes typically associated with humanity. No longer were they seen as an intergalactic bully but rather as compassionate beings capable of the same selfless actions as the other, more established races.

Of course, not everyone shared this sentiment.

The volus were already well-known for their public disapproval of the perceived favoritism enjoyed by humanity. When they were made the fourth Council race, a millennia of invidious frustration came to a boil among the diminutive people. Din Korlack, Council ambassador to the volus, gave the Council an ultimatum: Appoint a volus as the fifth Council race or they would resign all diplomatic relations and become an isolationist state.

The Council, of course, were not a group that could be easily intimidated; They steadfastly refused. Though the volus had a much more colorful and extensive record of service than humanity, it was acknowledged that they had not contributed enough to the galactic community to warrant such an honor. In addition, the volus did not have a booming economy and only the slimmest military presence. Becoming a Council race would likely put a critical strain upon their finite resources.

Unconvinced, Din marshaled his people and they did exactly what they threatened. The volus severed all ties to the Citadel and retreated to their home world of Irune. The volus inhabiting the Citadel had all left simultaneously. Other volus spread throughout the settled worlds quickly got word of the revolt and similarly retreated. One month later, it was almost impossible to find a volus lingering outside of Irune, and even rarer to find one not harboring resentment for the "unfair" treatment given to humanity.

Though this was an obvious possibility, the Council wasn't concerned and concluded that Ambassador Korlack was bluffing. When he honored the threat, the Council flew into action. Through an arrangement for a mutually beneficial solution, they hoped the volus would eventually return to their embassy and abandon their campaign for a Council seat. Though they weren't physically adept, the volus made up for it with their prodigious mental acumen. It would be a severe blow to the galactic economy if no volus were left to crunch numbers and work out complicated equations.

For obvious reasons, Captain Shepard was not chosen to meet with the Vol Protectorate. However, being a Council race, a human was included in the envoy. Emily Bowers, the successor of Council ambassador Donnel Udina, was chosen by Chairman Anderson to accompany fellow Council race representatives and a litany of heavily armed guards to Irune.

Captain Shepard was to be one of the guards, disguised as an ordinary rank-and-file soldier.

Shepard's attendance was considered paramount to the success of the assembly but it was also classified. Shepard himself didn't understand how he would be of help unless an armed riot broke out, but that was probably what the Council assumed would happen. But now a problem surfaced, one that took priority of virtually every other ceremony and mission humanity had arranged. Captain John Shepard, legend for becoming the first human Spectre and a galactic figurehead for hope against the Reaper threat, had cancer. News spread like wildfire and by the end of the same day that Shepard himself had been informed, the extranet was an explosion of public concern.

Shepard's family had no history of this particular type of cancer. A month earlier he was a paragon of health and excellent physical fitness. How did he contract such a disease? Doctor Chakwas and a hastily assembled team of the greatest medical minds in the galaxy came to only one conclusion: The Prothean beacon.

The beacon was the beginning anyway. Subsequent interactions with Prothean technology, receiving the Cypher, and mental contact with two separate asari believing they were helping him order his thoughts gradually worsened his condition. Up until then, no one had fathomed that Prothean technology would have negative side-effects when linked to a human consciousness. But now the proof was in the pudding and it greatly humbled these alleged experts. Doctor Chakwas was especially apologetic and had a box of tissues on-hand throughout.

The beacon was designed to link to Prothean physiology, not human. That Shepard didn't show immediate signs of illness was a testament to his resilience. But now he was fighting for his life and a solution was needed. None of the Council races had medical technology advanced enough to eliminate the cancer altogether. Surgery and chemotherapy were the obvious alternatives but it was a temporary solution; the cancer was malignant and would inevitably return. The situation was dire and the answer was elusive.

After two days of brainstorming without results, Chairman Anderson held an extranet press conference admitting that Captain Shepard's condition was worsening and his chances of survival were low. Of course, the response from humanity was the strongest. People wanted to see their hero in person but he was confined to quarters and encouraged to get as much rest as possible. He was allowed guests, mostly those whom he had served with on-board the _Normandy_.

John hadn't slept much. It was hard when so much attention was bearing down on him at all times. If some doctor whom he didn't recognize wasn't asking for a blood sample, it was the guards positioned outside his room scuffling with another reporter whom had snuck past initial security. He was not afraid of dying and took this greatly amplified level of attention with spartan detachment.

Then Ashley arrived, and his recent awareness of his own mortality made him afraid of losing her. He was suddenly very afraid of dying. She laid in bed with him for hours, crying while Shepard silently consoled her. Very little discussion took place.

The next day Ashley again remained with Shepard until noon, at which time she was called back to her post. She had been on barracks duty when the news of Shepard's illness came and she abandoned her post. Out of respect, her fellow Marines covered for her and she was not written up. Later on she would ask how they knew she was dating Shepard, receiving only sly grins in response.

* * *

Shepard's second guest arrived later on that day. It was Garrus, whom had taken emergency leave from C-Sec. He arrived in uniform and sans the targeting reticule normally worn over his left eye.

"Comm -- err, _Captain_ Shepard. How are you feeling?" Garrus sat down in a chair beside Shepard's bed. Courteous as ever, he waited to be invited in and offered the seat before taking it.

"I'm fine, Garrus, and it's good to see you." Shepard closed the book he was reading and placed it on the nightstand. "What's with the C-Sec uniform? Didn't you tell me you were going to apply for the Spectres and work to clear our 'good name'?"

Garrus winced. He had come today hoping that would not be brought up. Shepard picked up on his nervousness but curiosity urged him to wait for the reply. "Y-yes, I did say that. Certain circumstances have caused me to be permanently barred from applying, however."

"What circumstances? Your record is impeccable. What the hell could have happened that would bar you from candidacy?"

For the first time since he arrived, Garrus's eyes averted from Shepard's. He was truly ashamed. "I lost my temper, Captain. I shot at another candidate. We were on the firing range when he made a comment about using his Spectre authority to kill off 'alien' children without fear of reprisal. He was human and thankfully the only one I've ever met that I didn't think was worth the skin his miserable guts were wrapped in."

Shepard nodded silently. Whether it was a nod of understanding or disappointment was debatable.

"Captain, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Garrus," Shepard chimed. "Give me the name of the recruit and I'll make sure he's removed from the list. You'll be reinstated as well."

Garrus sat ramrod straight and his typically turian mask-of-a-face took on the closest expression to bewilderment as possible. "C-Captain, that's not necessary! It was my fault!"

"Garrus, c'mere. I have another piece of wisdom for you." With a finger, Shepard waved Garrus closer. "Rank has its privileges."

* * *

Dr. Liara T'Soni was Shepard's third guest, but she did not appear in person. Her visit came in the form of a video e-mail for two reasons: One, her occupation as a former crackpot Prothean scientist turned reputable and highly-valued Prothean eye-witness made her a commodity. She was currently on Ilos, at the largest archeological dig ever amassed. Needless to say, she could not be at Shepard's bedside.

Second, like many other bits of information relating to Shepard's condition, the cause of it became public. Had he been able to send a reply, he would have told Liara that he did not blame her, but she definitely blamed herself. She was in hysterics during the entire video and only a few muddled words worked their way through her sobbing. The entire event unnerved Shepard more than anything else, because he didn't think asari could cry. It sounded much too human for his tastes.

* * *

His last guest was the one Shepard thought he'd see the least. Tali'Zorah Vas Beau entered Shepard's hospital room and hugged him like a daughter who had been separated from her father at an amusement park. Since returning to her people, Tali had been praised as a hero; the quarian equivalent of John Alan Shepard. The information gained on the geth had already opened up several avenues that had never been considered by the Flotilla before. This gave the quarians a second gift from Tali, as valuable as the first: Hope. Hope of one day defeating the geth and reclaiming their home world.

Her pilgrimage over, Tali was officially accepted by the captain of the _Beau_ and left the vessel of her birth behind. Tali'Zorah, who was born aboard the _Rayya_, was replaced by Tali'Zorah, Crewman of the _Beau_. She wore her new distinction with pride.

"I'm here to return the favor, Shepard," Tali said gleefully, her voice static-y through the voicemitter of her mirrored environmental mask.

"You're not my subordinate, Tali. You're my friend and my friends don't call me by my last name."

"You're last…? Oh! You mean your first name! Oh…oh dear…I don't think I know it."

Shepard snickered and shook his head. "Shepard is fine."

"Good!" Tali sat up and released her boa-like grip from Shepard's neck. She stood off the bed and skipped to the other end of the room, drawing shut the blinds. She then moved to the door and locked it, giving it one solid tug to ensure that it was secured. Tali then turned around and moved her arms up to disconnect the respirator hoses from her mask. She slipped off her veil and pushed down on a latch separating the back portion of her helmet and her mask, which hissed with a rush of air. Tali then took off her helmet and set it down on the chair at Shepard's bedside, taking a moment to ruffle up her hair.

"Tali…you're a brunette."

Tali smiled and leaned over her friend, her astonishingly long locks shrouding her chalk-white face. "This is the favor, Shepard. My people have recently developed cybernetics capable of rendering us immune to most terrestrial diseases and illness; the first step in the quarian revolution against the geth." Tali's albino-red eyes shimmered like gemstones under the ceiling light. "With your permission and the permission of your medical staff, I have authorization from the Conclave to bring in a team who will perform this surgery on you. With any luck, your body will be able to fight off the cancer by itself. What do you say?"

His mouth flapped wordlessly for a moment. Shepard was simply stunned at this turn of events and unsure of how to respond. Chief concern on his mind was that he would have liked this news one day prior, so he could have used it to ease Ashley's troubled mind. If the procedure was successful, Ashley would no doubt fight with him for months; it was a small price to pay for her eventual forgiveness and a life time of enjoying her company.

Tali was patient and awaiting his reply with an amorous grin.

"Shepard? I know it's a lot to take in all at once but you do need to decide soon. Your cancer isn't getting any better, you know."

Shepard nodded, still muted by surprise. Her voice sounded quite different when not distorted by the machines built into her mask. He swallowed, sighed, then leaned to his right and pushed the nurse call button beside his bed. "Let's get started."


End file.
